All We Need Is Madness
by SashaMorwood
Summary: A paranoid schizophrenic and a psychologist of fear with a penchant for wearing a scarecrow mask and frightening his patients? Yeah, this was a match made in heaven...or, more likely, hell. Doctor Jonathan Crane has just acquired a new test subject but she's not like the others. She does not succumb to his toxin and escapes Arkham. Seven years later, he's tracked her down.
1. Thirty Dead

...  
"Sarah, why did you do it?"  
A whimper of a voice came out, "They told me to."  
"Who?" asked Detective Wesley.  
Sarah raised her head, her green eyes wide with fear. Now barely a whisper was heard in the interrogation room of the New York Police Department. "The voices."

Detective Wesley left the room and turned to the man who had been standing behind the tinted glass for the entire session. "What's the verdict, Doc?"

Doctor Jonathan Crane removed his glasses, his bright blue eyes shining in the florescent lights. He removed a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and began wiping the lenses of his glasses, "It is my professional opinion that this girl be transferred to Arkham Asylum at once. She's not stable enough to remain in this kind of environment. She needs to be kept under constant surveillance."

"Well, we'll get started on the paper work and you can wheel her out of here in no time at all." said Wesley.

Crane's lips formed a crooked smile, "Thank you. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to her alone for a while before we leave."

Wesley hesitated, debating whether to leave this man alone with a seriously deranged teenage girl who, only two hours ago, shot thirty of her classmates dead. But he nodded and opened the door of the interrogation room.

"She's all yours." He replied." There'll be an officer outside if you need anything."

"Oh, I need to make a call first. Is there anywhere I can go to talk in private?" asked Crane.

Wesley nodded, "Down the hall, first door on the left. It's just empty office space but no one ever goes in."

Crane tilted his head in thanks and began walking down the corridor. He opened the door and stepped into the empty room. He removed the cell phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial 2.

The phone rang and a deep voice was heard on the other end, "Well?"

"I found another test subject for our little experiment. I'm about to conduct my interview and she'll be in Arkham within the hour."

"Psychosis?"

"Paranoid schizophrenic."

"Good, good. How are the trials coming along by the way?"

Crane nodded to himself. "They're going well, the toxin's working. We'll soon be ready for city wide dispersal."

"Excellent. I want no mistakes Doctor Crane. Get it done."

"Of course sir. I just want t-"

The line went dead. Jonathan sighed, hung up the phone and tucked it back into his pocket. "I hate it when he does that. It's very rude..." he muttered to himself.

Crane straightened his tie and walked back out into the corridor. He placed his glasses back on before opening the door to the interrogation room.

He walked in and set his briefcase down on the steel table.

"Hello Sarah, my name is Jonathan Crane. How are you feeling?"

Sarah chuckled slightly to herself, "Oh wonderful. I just killed thirty people because the little voices in my head told me to. Now I'm chained to a table being interrogated by detectives and psychologists who think the best thing to do is have me locked up in solitary for the rest of my life..."

"Well at least you seem compliant now. The detective tells me you were a little upset when you arrived."

"Did you not hear what I just said?" she asked with her eyebrows raised.

"Oh right, my apologies." he smiled at her and she smiled sarcastically back.

"So, when are we leaving?"

"As soon as the paper work's done, we'll go." There was no point in sugar coating it now. Sarah Morgan might have been psychotic but she certainly wasn't stupid. She was also very, very beautiful. It was a shame really.

She nodded to herself and glanced at him. Crane had removed his glasses yet again and placed them in his briefcase. "You have nice eyes."

He lowered his head and smiled, "Why thank you. So do you." Hers were emerald green and seemed to sparkle under the ceiling lights.

A knock came at the door and detective Wesley entered the room. "We're ready for you, doc."

Crane nodded, "Thank you detective." He then turned to Sarah, "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Two police officers came in and unchained her from the desk. They grabbed both her arms and lead her out of the room.

Jonathan Crane lead the way out of the police station and guided them into the back of a black van with a white label on the side, 'Arkham Asylum'.


	2. A Cure

"Morning Sarah, how are you feeling?" Jonathan smiled at her.

"Okay, I guess." she replied.

"That's good." Crane took out his clipboard and sat down on the steel chair in the middle of the room.

The walls of Sarah's room were painted white and the floor was made of grey stone. Jonathan was wearing his usual dark blue suit, black shoes and glasses. His briefcase at his side like it was glued to him.

Sarah was wearing the typical patient clothing. A plain white t-shirt, white trousers and plimsolls.

Sarah Rikon was eighteen now.

It had been two years since the 'Gotham High Massacre'. Two years since she'd been moved to Arkham but she had only been placed in the care of Doctor Jonathan Crane three months ago.

"And what about the voices? Any changes?"

"No." that was all she said. This was the part she dreaded in every interview. She hated talking about _them_. About the horrible things they show her. The things they tell her to do.

"Sarah, in order to help you, I need the full picture. Please."

"Fine, you want to know what they've been telling me? About how much they want you dead? How much they wanted _everyone_ dead? The images they burned into my brain of all those bodies. All the blood I spilt in that school." she lowered her head.

Jonathan sighed. She was so lost and angry. She felt like it was her against the world. For two years he was forced to keep his distance from her. The boss knew he had a soft spot for her and there was no way in hell he was going to put his plan in jeopardy because Crane had a crush.

He was only allowed to see her now because the...experiment needed more subjects.

Crane swallowed as he realised what he was going to have to put her through. But the boss would kill him if he didn't go along with it.

"What about the medication? Has it helped?"

"Yes, actually. I managed four hours last night."

He managed a smile. Sarah did love that smile of his. It was the one bright, good thing she saw in this place.

"That's excellent news." he scribbled something onto his clipboard and gazed at her.

Her hair was longer now, almost reaching her waist. The scratch she had acquired from fighting with one of the orderlies in the canteen had now faded into a small scar on the corner of her left eye.

Crane shook himself and turned his gaze to the floor. His lips formed a thin line as he uttered the words he'd told many of his other patients.

"Listen, we've just gotten our hands on a new drug that is said to reverse the effects of schizophrenia. It's already been tested on several other patients here in Arkham and...well, it appears to be working."

Sarah smiled. It was the first time she'd smiled since being admitted. Jonathan did love that smile of hers.

"Really? It works?"

Crane nodded. "Your condition has improved greatly since we found you. You're calmer, more relaxed and you're even sleeping better. This drug could be a cure. It's available to you if you want it."

Sarah thought about this for a second, "What are the side effects?"

"So far, there've been none whatsoever. Our last patient was a month ago and he has recovered fully. One hundred percent healthy."

"You could really do this for me, doc? You could cure me?" the hope in her voice was almost heartbreaking. He almost didn't go through with it but then he remembered what the boss had said to him, "Fail me and your little puppet will suffer for it."

"Yes, I think we could."

"Okay then, I want to do it. When can we start?"

As she spoke Crane removed his mask from the briefcase. Along with a canister filled with the toxin.

He placed the mask on his head and looked at her, "Right now."

The gas filled the room and all she saw was darkness. The voices exploded in her head. Screaming at her, they warned her this would happen. Told her he couldn't be trusted.

And they were right.


	3. Recurring Nightmares

Sarah woke to the sting of fluorescent lights and smoke hitting her eyes.

She blinked back tears and quickly glanced around her.

Through the fog she made out at least two figures a few metres away.

She immediately began rattling the cuffs that fastened her hands to the table upon which she was lying. She had to get out.

Grateful for the background clamour of what appeared to be an engine at the far side of the room, she quickly shimmied a hair clip from her pocket – one she had been hiding for several months- and started to pick the lock on the handcuffs.

Apparently her escape attempt could not be heard over the raucous, so she kept working.

A few minutes later, the lock was broken and her hands were loose.

The voices were screaming at her now, telling her to hurry.

Even if she got the locks from her ankles, there was still the problem of actually getting out of wherever it was she was being held.

Pushing the thought from her head, she unlocked the chains on her ankles and hopped off the table.

She could still see the two figures not far from where she stood and was amazed that they hadn't spotted her yet.

Sarah crouched down and swiftly headed for the side of the room, feeling her way along the wall in order to find a door to get her out. There wasn't much time.

~~~~~  
"What do you mean it didn't work?" Paul shouted over the noise of the engine.

Doctor Jonathan Crane ran a hand through his hair, "I gave her enough but she barely flinched! It didn't work on her for some reason."

Paul groaned, "Well that's just great. You have to tell the boss about this, you have to deal with her."

Crane nodded but didn't say anything. _Deal with her._ _Deal with her?  
_  
He shuddered at the thought of killing the one patient he actually liked but knew that there was no other option.

He couldn't let her get out and spread the word of what they were doing down here.  
He couldn't put the entire operation in jeopardy...could he?

He waved an annoyed goodbye to Paul and walked towards the steel table where he had put Sarah.

He nearly choked when he saw the slab vacant with the metal cuffs lying on the floor.

"Sarah!" he screamed. He ran to Paul, "She's gone! She's gone!"

"Shit!" shouted Paul and gestured to a few of the men that we on the open level above them, "After her! Don't let her escape!"

~~~~~  
Sarah could hear Jonathan's shouts from the corridor as she ran.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted through the halls.

With no idea where she was going or what would be waiting for her on the other side, she pushed through as many doors as she could, praying that one of them would lead her out.

After what seemed like a lifetime of running, she found the exit.

Apparently she was being held in a warehouse of some sort and so it had a door conveniently marked '_Exit'.  
_  
She threw the door open as the night air embraced her.  
She didn't stop running until she was certain that no one was following her.

She ran for years, sticking to the side roads in towns that nobody even knew existed and staying in old motels for no longer than a couple of days.

She kept going until one day, she decided to stop. Sarah got a job, bought a new house and finally began living her life.

Seven years had passed since her escape and she had almost forgotten about Arkham, about Doctor Jonathan Crane, about the mask.

Almost, but not quite.

Every so often she would have those nightmares, the ones you think you'll never wake up from. The ones you think are real...

That's why, when Sarah woke up one morning to find Jonathan Crane sitting in her living room, she thought it was just another nightmare.

It took her a while to realise that this nightmare was real, that it was sitting on her couch reading a book like it had always been there.

And this nightmare wasn't going away without a fight.


End file.
